my family
I was born like most other babies, in a hospital way back in 1966. I don’t recall much about this incident but I’m told it was a happy event and I was a very cute baby.
This hospital was in Souris, a nice little town in the eastern end of Prince Edward Island. It’s a slow town but not a bad place to grow up. I had a mother, a father, two older brothers and a dog. His name was Wagmore, but all his friends called him Waggie. We had several cats too but they all got run over. I don’t recall much about any particular one but I’m sure they were nice cats. We had some turtles too, Pop Top and Captain Kid, but they died. Everything dies invariably and eventually.
My father was and still is a fisherman – he caught lobsters. One of my brothers, Art, is a lobster fisherman now. He and my father, I would say are “fish-titutionallized”, which means they are obsessed with fish. They spend the better part of their time talking about and thinking about fish.
My oldest brother, Mike, lives in San Francisco now. He’s an engineer. I always thought I was the smartest one but he’s making more money than I am right now.
And my mother, she’s a nurse, ironically, she works in a drug treatment center. I must be somewhat of an embarrassment to her when all the other nurses talk about their kids, but I’m happy.
I was named after my grandfather on my father’s side. He was a rumrunner. In my opinion that’s like being a drug dealer, but rumrunners are sort of like folk heroes. We drug dealers don’t get the respect that they get, except from some of our peers. My grandfather died when I was young which is too bad and kinda sad, but that’s life.
vote on reddit
digg it!
del.icio.us
Yahoo
Facebook